


caution: hold your heart (it might fall straight to me)

by jjokkiri



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: (If You Ignore The Fact That They're Fake Dating), Alternate Universe - College/University, Byungchan And Subin Are Childhood Friends, Byungchan Is Painfully Gay, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Hanse And Seungwoo Are Mentioned Like Twice, How Do I Tag, M/M, Maybe This Is Also Domestic, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Strangers to Lovers, You Might Experience Secondhand Embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjokkiri/pseuds/jjokkiri
Summary: Sick of his parents asking about his love life, Byungchan gives into his friends’ ridiculous plan to hire a fake boyfriend for Chuseok. And the flyer in the campus cafeteria seems like a timely blessing.But, quite honestly, he should have read the fine print on Lim Sejun because he’s absolutely certain that, in bright red letters, it would have read:WARNING! Very Easy to Fall in Love With! Interact with Caution!
Relationships: Choi Byungchan/Im Sejun
Comments: 24
Kudos: 161
Collections: Lucky 7 Victon





	caution: hold your heart (it might fall straight to me)

**Author's Note:**

> **Written in response to prompt #124** \- The flyer in the campus’ table board says as follow: “Will pretend to be the person you need for Chuseok in exchange for food. Man, 1m80, fit. Please call XXXXX and ask for Sejun.” Byungchan doesn’t usually pay attention to the board. And he definitely would have never considered replying to a request like this. But he’s getting tired of his mom’s well-meaning but overbearing questions about his love life and interrogation from his family he’s faced with every time he comes home. Maybe that’s what pushes him to take out his phone and push the numbers written in front of him. It’s only a couple of days. He can totally pretend to have a loving boyfriend. No big deal.

“Hyung.” There’s a teasing smile on Subin’s lips as he looks across the lunch table at Byungchan. He stabs his fork into one of the grapes in Byungchan’s lunch container and shoves it into his mouth. With bright eyes, he waits patiently for Byungchan to answer him, the prongs of the fork still in his mouth.

Byungchan doesn’t respond to him. He pretends to be too invested in the video playing on his phone, he pretends that he can’t hear him. Subin frowns.

Subin kicks him under the table. _“Byungchan hyung.”_

Byungchan hisses at the sharp pain that shoots up his leg when Subin kicks him. At the speed of light, he drops his phone onto the university’s cheap, plastic lunch table and he bends down to grab his injury, dramatically groaning in pain. Subin looks pleased with himself.

Byungchan shoots the younger man a glare. “ _What?_ What is it?”

Subin’s smile never leaves his lips. He pulls the fork out of his mouth, his eyes glimmering with a spark of mischief. He says, “I was thinking…”

Byungchan narrows his eyes at Subin. “I don’t like it when you think,” he says. Subin laughs. Byungchan scrunches up his nose, wary of Subin’s train of thought. “But you may continue.”

Subin beams at him.

“I was thinking about how we’re supposed to go to your place next week for Chuseok,” Subin says. Byungchan hesitates. He watches Subin carefully, afraid of where the conversation might go if he weren’t careful. Subin seems to catch onto his wariness immediately. He grins and clasps his hands together in delight, “I was thinking about how Auntie is going to _definitely_ ask you about your love life!”

Byungchan immediately deflates. He frowns.

“We aren’t having this conversation, Subin,” he says. Subin mirrors his frown.

“But why, hyung?” he pouts at him. “We need to have a plan for you to escape her questioning, don’t we?”

Byungchan makes a face.

“ _We_ don’t need to do anything,” Byungchan says. He sighs, “If my mom is that curious about my love life, she can start watching those dramas that glorify romance. She’s not going to get it from her son.”

Subin frowns. He rests his elbow on the table and taps the fork against his lips.

“But what if I told you that I have a _brilliant_ idea that would make her stop asking?” Subin asks.

Byungchan studies Subin carefully. He frowns.

The distrust simmers in the back of Byungchan’s mind as he watches Subin bat his eyelashes innocently at him. Subin is cute but he can’t be trusted. It’s what Byungchan has learned in the _many_ years of their friendship. It was a hard lesson to learn but Byungchan has taken it to heart at this point. He can’t trust him, no matter how cute Subin looks when he flutters his eyelashes at him and smiles.

It’s all a trap.

It always is.

Byungchan’s frown deepens. He warns, “If this plan has anything to do with me actually getting a boyfriend in a week, Subin, I’m going to have to say no.”

Subin laughs at him. It sounds genuinely amused, as if Byungchan was making a joke. He shakes his head.

“Hyung,” he says, leaning his elbows against the table. He tilts the chair onto its two front legs and leans closer to Byungchan. His eyes are sparkling as he speaks, “I don’t trust you to get yourself a boyfriend in like, five days. You’re not Hanse hyung. You can’t just sit there and swipe through Tinder for three minutes and miraculously get eight dates lined up for the next week.”

Byungchan doesn’t know if it’s intentional that Subin’s comment feels like a jab at his pride but he’s only a _little_ hurt that Subin thinks he can’t get eight dates lined up for an entire week in three minutes. He probably _could_. Maybe he would need an extra five minutes, but he probably _could_.

“Then, what do you want me to do?” Byungchan asks. Subin beams.

“You find a fake boyfriend,” he says.

Byungchan’s expression immediately drops. _A what?_

“I know what you’re going to say,” Subin says. “You’re going to ask me how the heck that’s supposed to help. You’re going to be vehemently against it because you think I’m being ridiculous. But, listen, it’s a good idea.”

Byungchan leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, unimpressed.

He deadpans, “How?”

Subin grins. “I _knew_ you would say that,” he says. He flips open his tablet with his free hand, careful to not whack it with his fork. “So, Hanse hyung and I prepared a slideshow for you.”

Byungchan sighs. “You made a _slideshow_ for me.”

Subin nods his head.

“We did! It’s supposed to be really convincing. Hanse hyung said it was really good.” He sounds proud. He pauses, tapping on the icon to open the slideshow. “Or well, I guess he said it because he made it.”

“This isn’t a business proposal, Subin,” Byungchan says. Subin clicks his tongue.

“But, it is,” he replies. There’s something about the confidence in his tone that makes it almost entirely believable. Byungchan knows better than to trust a plan that Subin and Hanse came up with together. He isn’t an idiot. Subin continues, “You’re paying someone to be your boyfriend for a few days to satisfy your mom. You earn something, they earn something. There’s money involved. It’s a _transaction,_ hyung.”

Byungchan sighs. He buries his face into his hands, already tired of Subin’s suggestion. “What makes you think that I’m willing to choke up _money_ to make sure my mom doesn’t ask a single question about my love life?” he asks. “Wouldn’t she want to know _more_ if I actually bring someone home?”

Subin laughs. “That’s where you make your date take over and answer all the questions for you. They just need to know you well enough to answer all the questions,” he says. “And then, you can sit back and relax.”

“That doesn’t seem like a good idea,” Byungchan says.

Subin shakes his head.

“Hanse hyung and I talked about it,” he explains. “If your mom likes your date, then she won’t ask you a single question. All _they_ need to do is know _you_ well enough to scam her!”

“Easier said than done, Subin,” Byungchan frowns.

Subin grins, “And _Hanse hyung_ knew you would say _that._ So, that’s why we made the PowerPoint!”

Subin turns his tablet to face Byungchan and beams at him as the slideshow finally loads on the screen. Byungchan absently wonders how detailed the slideshow must be for it to have taken so long to load. Or maybe Subin’s tablet is finally starting to fail him. He’s had the thing since his second year of high school.

Byungchan doesn’t have the _chance_ to find out which one it is before his eyes experience the trauma of witnessing the horrendous design choices of Hanse’s PowerPoint presentation. It’s honestly hideous.

Byungchan takes one look at the PowerPoint presentation on Subin’s tablet—just _one_ look at the offensive use of sunflower yellow Papyrus spelling out _‘Reasons to Obtain a Fake Fella’_ —and sighs. He’s barely able to conceal his disgust. He immediately closes his lunch container and pushes his chair out.

“No,” he says. The finality in his voice is a force to be reckoned with. He shoots Subin a firm look. “I am not watching your PowerPoint presentation and I am _not_ getting a fake boyfriend for a few days, Subin.”

Subin deflates.

Byungchan stands up to leave the table. He throws his lunch container into his open bag and zips it up. He doesn’t look back at Subin when he turns to walk away.

There’s the sound of scrambling behind him. He doesn’t need to look to know that Subin is chasing after him.

“Hyung, come on!” Subin runs after him. The whine in Subin’s voice is almost pitiful.

Byungchan slows down his steps, if only to prevent Subin from embarrassing them in front of the entire cafeteria with how he’s running after him. Subin nearly runs into Byungchan when he catches up to him.

He sighs and turns to look at Subin.

He says, “If I let you walk with me, will you promise to stop being ridiculous?”

It comes to him as a belated realization that Subin isn’t even looking at him. Subin is looking somewhere behind him. Whatever he’s looking at seems to have his full attention because he doesn’t even seem to notice that Byungchan spoke. Confused, Byungchan turns to look behind him.

“What are you looking at?” he asks. His eyes follow Subin’s and he searches the bulletin board behind them for something of interest. He looks back at Subin and tries to pinpoint his line of sight. He waves his hand in front of Subin’s face, trying to snap the smaller man out of his trance. “Jung Subin. _Hey_.”

Subin swats Byungchan’s hand away from his face with a small frown on his lips.

“That,” Subin replies. He points at a square-shaped flyer on the bulletin board. It looks cheaply made but the design is certainly better than Hanse’s PowerPoint presentation. In bold, it reads: _‘Will pretend to be the person you need for Chuseok in exchange for food. Male, 180cm, fit. Please call and ask for Sejun.’_ There’s a few tear-off tabs with a phone number attached to the flyer. None of them have been ripped off.

Byungchan makes a face. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“You can’t be serious,” he says. Subin looks at him.

“I don’t know, hyung,” he says. “We were just talking about it. Doesn’t it seem like it’s fate?”

Byungchan snorts. “There’s no such thing as fate.”

His eyes linger on the tear-off tabs. “There’s a reason that no one has taken any of the tabs off of the flyer. No one wants anyone to do anything like this for them, Subin.”

Subin glances at him. He purses his lips.

He shrugs, “Call him.”

Byungchan’s jaw drops. “Did you listen to a single word I said?”

Subin nods his head. “Of course, I did. And I’m choosing to not listen to you because you’re wrong. There’s a market for every single service you can think of and I think this Sejun guy is onto something.” Subin beams at him, “You should call him. If Hanse hyung were here, I think he would tell you to call him, too.”

Byungchan scrunches up his nose.

“Hanse is always on your side,” he says. “It’s not fair for you to say that. He’s your partner in crime for these kinds of things. I can’t ask your direct partner in crime if he agrees with you. That’s walking straight into a trap.”

Subin grins, “And this Sejun guy can be _your_ partner in crime if you ask him to be!”

“You’re completely missing my point, Subin.”

_“Purposefully.”_

“I’m going to walk away again,” Byungchan threatens. Subin frowns at him. He grabs one of Byungchan’s arms and latches onto him to prevent him from immediately escaping.

“Come on, hyung,” Subin says. The whine in his voice is back. This time, it’s twice as powerful and Byungchan has to grit his teeth to resist the urge to give in and listen to Subin. “This guy isn’t even asking for financial compensation for his services. All he wants is food!”

“How pitiful,” Byungchan remarks. “He must be pitiful. Doesn’t he have anyone to spend Chuseok with?”

Subin rolls his eyes. He drops Byungchan’s arm and crosses his arms over his chest.

“You’re being so difficult.”

Byungchan frowns at him. _Of course he’s being difficult. Why wouldn’t he?_

“Obviously. I’m not going to pretend to date a stranger, Subin.”

“Fine,” Subin says. He pulls one of the tear-off tabs from the flyer and shoves it in Byungchan’s hands. “If you want to deal with Auntie’s questions _all by yourself_ , you can be my guest!” He sniffs and sticks his nose in the air, “I’m not going to waste more time trying to convince you. I have class to attend.”

And then, he runs off down the hall.

Byungchan is left all alone with the tab between his fingers. He stares down at the flimsy piece of paper and the phone number stares back at him threateningly. He rolls his eyes.

 _This is stupid,_ he thinks. There honestly isn’t any good reason that he should even consider hiring someone to be his fake boyfriend for a few days to throw his mother off. His mind simply cannot conjure a single good reason. And there comes the absent thought that _maybe_ he should have given Hanse’s PowerPoint a chance, but he convinces himself that any argument written in Papyrus (by Do Hanse himself) can’t be taken seriously. Hanse wouldn’t have been able to convince him, even if he sat through the PowerPoint.

Byungchan looks at the slip of paper in his hands and then his line of sight moves to the garbage can sitting a couple metres away from him. He contemplates his choices.

Then, against his better judgement to just throw the paper out, he pockets the slip of paper anyway.

 _“Sub, hey!_ Wait for me!”

* * *

It doesn’t even take a full day for Byungchan to crack.

He lasts until the next morning when he’s curled up in his bed, exhausted from his classes. He’s woken up by the sound of his phone buzzing from a text message. He blindly grabs his phone.

All it takes for him to crack is an alarmingly suspicious text message from his older sister, asking about the number of guests their family should be expecting at their house for the holidays. He just _knows_ that his sister is playing puppet for his mother. There’s no reason for her to ask him about the number of expected guests. For as long as he could remember—for the entirety of Byungchan’s life—celebrating Chuseok at his house meant that it was just going to be him and Subin. The answer is two. It always has been.

But there’s a lingering feeling of dread somewhere in the back of his mind that already knows what the message is trying to imply. He isn’t dumb. He knows that his family is expecting something more out of him after he avoided coming home for the summer holidays.

He should have been more careful when he was making excuses about _why_ he didn’t want to head back to his hometown for the summer holidays. He shouldn’t have been so ambiguous about his reason because it’s clearly given his family some ideas. Ideas that are _very_ untrue.

With a deep sigh, Byungchan drops his phone onto his bed and snuggles into his pillow, decidedly ignoring the message. The device slides into the folds of his duvet and he thinks that being unable to see the text message is the only way he’ll know true peace.

It isn’t.

His consciousness threatens to eat him alive in three seconds. He only knows peace for three seconds.

He doesn’t want to answer the message, but he knows that she’ll scold him if he leaves her message on read. So, with a resigned groan, Byungchan blindly searches his sheets for his phone. Half-heartedly, he texts her back with an ambiguous _‘I’ll let you know later.’_

Before Byungchan can even process the meaning behind his own text message, his sister texts him back.

She responds too quickly. He can imagine it already: his sister is sitting on the sofa with their mother right by her side, both waiting anxiously for Byungchan’s text message. It’s all too likely. He doesn’t like it.

But, whether Byungchan knows what he originally meant when he sent his sister the text message or not, the emoticon that she sends in response is enough to trigger the reminder that he has a slip of paper with a stranger’s number in the pocket of his sweatpants.

He throws his phone away from him, listening to the way the soft sheets cushion the device’s fall.

He rolls over in his bed and groans. Byungchan covers his head with his duvet.

Maybe if he tries to hide well enough under his sheets, reality can’t bother him.

His head spins with the conscious reminder that he _isn’t_ going to act on impulse. He’s still half-asleep and he certainly won’t be making the best decisions at this hour of the morning. He shouldn’t make any kind of decisions at this hour. He glances at the clock— _10:49 a.m._

This is the time of the morning that _Hanse_ probably makes all his important decisions. Byungchan can’t make fun of Hanse and then proceed to act exactly like him. That’s just not right.

_He’s not going to listen to Subin and Hanse._

_He can’t listen to them._

_He won’t listen to them. They’re idiots._

_He won’t do it. He’s better than that._

Byungchan swears under his breath and sits up to grab his phone.

_Fuck it. Would it hurt?_

It’s just a few days. The guy isn’t even asking for financial compensation.

Byungchan supposes it can’t hurt _that_ much. If it hurts, it’ll just be a tiny papercut and they’ll move on with their lives after the fact. There’s nothing that can make it so bad that Byungchan thinks he’ll regret it forever.

He reaches out and pulls his desk chair closer to his bed. Before he can regret his impulsive decision, he fishes through the pocket of the sweatpants hanging off the back of the chair.

There isn’t anything else in his pockets and the slip of paper is easy to find.

Byungchan stares at it.

It stares back at him.

He glances at the clock, again.

_Maybe it’s too early to call a stranger. Maybe they would hate him if he called so early._

Byungchan can already feel the regret building in his stomach. Maybe that’s a sign that he shouldn’t be doing this in the first place. That’s the sign that tells him _‘hey, Byungchan! You know, Subin and Hanse came up with a really stupid plan and you shouldn’t listen to them because you’re going to regret it!’_

He drops his phone.

He’ll make better decisions after he washes up and can think about it with a clear head. Surely, he’ll realize how stupid it is after he gets out of bed long enough to wash up and think.

He can’t let his sleepy mind give into Subin and Hanse.

Throwing his sheets off his body, Byungchan rolls out of his bed. He drops the slip of paper onto his nightstand and plugs his phone back in.

He’ll make better decisions later.

* * *

It doesn’t work.

It honestly does not.

Or at least, the shower doesn’t snap him out of his impulse to do something ridiculous like he hoped it would. The thought of hiring someone to act as his boyfriend for a few days is still lingering in the back of his head when he’s finished with his morning routine. He was hoping it was all a sleep-dazed trance that was making him think that there was a _chance_ that it could be a good idea. It turns out that more-awake Byungchan is still considering doing something stupid for the holidays.

His phone is sitting in his lap and he’s staring at the piece of paper on his nightstand.

It almost seems to smile back at him, mockingly. (Or maybe that’s just the poorly scribbled smiley face beside the phone number and the little letters that say, _‘Ask for Sejun!’_ )

Byungchan gives in.

He dials the number.

He already made the mistake of digging himself a deeper hole when he texted his sister back. He doesn’t really have many other options. None of the solutions that seem slightly reasonable can be completed in a few hours. His sister is waiting for a text message with a concrete answer and Byungchan is on the edge of trying to escape from a disastrous storyline that his family made up for themselves. And, as Subin said, this Sejun guy doesn’t even need financial compensation for his services.

Surely, he can manage for a few days.

It doesn’t sound that bad.

Before he can regret his decisions, though, the line is already ringing. Byungchan waits with his heart anxiously pounding in his chest. It’s weird that a simple phone call is making him so nervous. But, calling strangers has never been his forte. He’s not even sure what he’s supposed to say.

There comes the absent thought that _maybe_ he should have walked over to Subin’s apartment and gotten the younger man to accompany him while he made the call. Dealing with Subin teasing him for the next few days about being terribly nervous on the phone is better than being nervous all alone.

He doesn’t have the chance to hang up the phone to run over to Subin’s apartment, though.

The line stops ringing and there’s a sharp static sound as the call connects.

Byungchan flinches.

The voice that answers the phone is soft and quiet, slightly raspy. Byungchan doesn’t know what he was expecting but it wasn’t this.

_“Hello? Seungwoo speaking.”_

Byungchan freezes. He’s confused. _He’s not looking for someone named Seungwoo._

“Um,” Byungchan starts, brilliantly. He belatedly realizes that he isn’t the most eloquent over the phone and this probably is one of the worst decisions he’s ever made in his life. “May I speak to… Sejun, please?”

There’s a sudden silence as soon as Byungchan says his name. It almost feels awkward. Byungchan thinks that he dialled the wrong number. Or maybe he said the wrong name? Maybe he read the advertisement wrong? Maybe he’s _actually_ looking for a guy named Seungwoo and he just _can’t_ read.

He’s ready to apologize for calling the wrong number when the man speaks again.

 _“You’re looking for Sejun? Of course, you may speak to him,”_ he says, calmly. Something about his tone makes it sound both like he’s never done this before, but _also_ like he’s done this too many times before. Byungchan doesn’t know why he can _feel_ the exhaustion in Seungwoo’s voice when he doesn’t even know the guy. _“Let me just transfer the line to him for you.”_

Byungchan blinks at the phone in confusion. He made the call but he’s struck with confusion at the man’s words. _Transfer the line? Is this an actual business? Is this Seungwoo guy a receptionist for the hotline? If he is, why did he sound so confused when Byungchan asked to speak to someone?_ There’s the sound of rustling; movement on the other line. Byungchan can imagine Seungwoo moving the phone to his other hand.

(Or at least, that’s what it sounds like. The truth is that Byungchan has no idea what’s going on.)

Unfortunately for Byungchan’s ears, although Seungwoo has definitely moved the phone away from his mouth, there’s no effort to cover the microphone when Seungwoo positively _yells_ across the room.

_“Hey, Sejun! Come get the phone!”_

Byungchan nearly jumps out of his seat at the shout. He instinctively pulls the phone further away from his ear and cringes. _That’s not transferring a line._

He doesn’t know how to react.

He barely knows how to process the situation.

He wasn’t expecting much, but this isn’t what he was expecting.

So, instead of abruptly hanging up the phone in a blind panic, he waits.

There’s more rustling on Seungwoo’s end of the line, along with some incoherent mumbling that sounds like scolding—but Byungchan can’t make out any of the words that they’re saying.

And then, finally, another voice greets Byungchan.

 _“Hey, yeah. Sorry about that,”_ he says. _“This is Sejun speaking. How can I help you?”_

Byungchan hesitates.

“Um,” he starts. He’s painfully aware that he sounds like a complete idiot, but he just heard someone yell at the person he was supposed to be calling and he still hasn’t wrapped his head around that. He blinks rapidly, “Uh, I’m… calling because I saw your flyer…”

It sounds more like a question. He hates that he sounds so uncertain. He can’t help it.

Sejun hesitates on the other line.

Byungchan suddenly wants to bury himself alive.

This was a _terrible_ idea and he’ll fight Subin about it later.

He doesn’t know Sejun, but he can almost imagine the way that the gears in Sejun’s head turn.

 _“My flyer…”_ Sejun says. He’s thinking. Byungchan can feel it. _“Oh! My flyer!”_

Byungchan feels the deep need to reassure him that they’re both talking about the same thing.

“Yes, your flyer…” he says, uncertainly. He doesn’t feel like they’re talking about the same thing. Sejun sounds way too cheerful for them to be talking about the same thing. Or maybe it’s just Byungchan that thinks this is the weirdest service anyone could ever offer to anyone.

(It is.)

Luckily for him, it seems Sejun _does_ happen to know exactly what he’s talking about.

 _“What kind of role are you looking for?”_ Sejun asks. _“And what are you offering for my services?”_

Byungchan blinks. _What kind of role does he need?_

“A boyfriend,” he replies. Heat rushes to his cheeks as soon as he says it. He suddenly feels like he needs to slap himself in the face. The embarrassment threatens to swallow him alive (but he supposes if the one who is actually _offering_ the service isn’t embarrassed, he shouldn’t be). He racks his brain for a proper answer. He says the only thing that comes to mind, “Um, my mom cooks really well.”

 _“Cool,”_ Sejun says. It’s too easy, the way the words fall from his lips. _“How old are you?”_

Byungchan stares at his phone blankly. He feels strange. The heat of embarrassment feels like it’s been doused with the coolness of Sejun’s response. He feels like he’s getting worked up for no reason but he can’t understand how Sejun is so _cool_ with everything. He swallows, suddenly remembering that Sejun asked him a question.

Byungchan clears his throat, “I’m twenty-two.”

 _“Cool, I can do boyfriend, then.”_ Sejun tells him.

There’s a silence as Sejun moves on the other end of the line and then, there’s the sound of something shifting beneath him. It sounds like the unpleasant stickiness of a leather sofa. With every passing second, Byungchan loses faith in this being a legitimate service.

Sejun speaks again, _“Can we meet on campus today to discuss the details?”_

Byungchan hesitates. He looks at the calendar hanging on the wall, just above his desk.

He says, “Does it have to be on campus? I’m not on campus today.”

He can picture Sejun shrugging.

 _“That’s fine,”_ he says. _“Do you want to pick a location? I prefer somewhere close to campus. A café maybe?”_

“Sure,” Byungchan says. He thinks for a moment. Then, he says, “Um, do you want to meet at that café that no one goes to anymore because the new one opened?”

Sejun laughs. He seems to know exactly what Byungchan is talking about. Byungchan mentally comes to the conclusion that his laughter must mean that he’s either in Byungchan’s year or older than him because the café in question was completely disregarded by students in the year after Byungchan.

 _“Yeah,”_ he says. _“That’s near my apartment. That works for me.”_

Byungchan doesn’t know what else to say.

 _“I’m done class at four,”_ Sejun says. _“Are you free at five?”_

Byungchan has nothing planned for the rest of the day. Still, he falters when he agrees.

 _“Cool,”_ Sejun moves on the other line. He hums, _“Is this your personal number? Can I text it?”_

Byungchan nods his head before he realizes that Sejun can’t see him no matter what he does.

 _“Not for any creepy reasons,”_ Sejun says when Byungchan remains silent for a little too long. He chuckles quietly, _“I just need to be able to contact you if I can’t find you later.”_

“Oh,” he murmurs, “Yeah, it’s my personal number. You can text it if you want.”

 _“Cool,”_ Sejun tells him. _“I’ll see you later, then. I’ll text you some extra details if anything else comes up. Please make sure you’re not late. I don’t like waiting.”_

It felt strange earlier, but the way that Sejun confirms his appointment makes Byungchan doubt his original judgment on Sejun’s lack of professionalism. If he conveniently forgets about the fact that Seungwoo yelled across the room at Sejun, suddenly, it feels like a legitimate service again. It feels so oddly professional that Byungchan thinks Sejun must have done this fake dating stuff before. It’s a little weird but he supposes that just means that Subin wasn’t wrong when he said that there’s a market for every kind of service in the world.

_Speaking of Subin…_

“Wait, Sejun!” he says, “Can I bring someone with me?”

Sejun hesitates.

 _“Sure,”_ Sejun replies. _“You can take someone with you, just don’t make the place too crowded.”_

“Thanks,” Byungchan says. He doesn’t know what else to say.

Sejun chuckles quietly.

It’s as if he can sense his awkwardness.

(It’d be a surprise if he couldn’t.)

 _“Hey,”_ he says, _“you never told me your name, by the way.”_

Byungchan’s eyes widen. He gasps, “Oh, fuck.”

Sejun bursts into laughter at that.

“I’m Byungchan!” he exclaims in a panic. “My name is Byungchan.”

 _“Hi, Byungchan,”_ Sejun says. He sounds so sweet when he says Byungchan’s name that Byungchan doesn’t know how to act. In an attempt to seem normal, Byungchan weakly echoes his greeting. _“I’ll see you later, okay?”_

And then, Sejun hangs up.

Byungchan is left all alone staring at his phone in panic.

There’s half a beat of dead silence before he snaps back to reality.

He immediately dials Subin’s number.

* * *

Ten minutes to five, Byungchan walks into the café with Subin in tow.

He feels like he’s just a single hair away from being _so_ nervous that he thinks he wouldn’t survive if he couldn’t hold Subin’s hand for support. But it isn’t that bad, so he’s keeping himself together. He’s keeping himself together until they find Sejun.

Subin’s pep talk before the meeting hadn’t been very helpful.

The younger man spent the majority of the time giggling into his hand in delight.

Byungchan should have known that he would like it too much, the fact that Byungchan somehow ended up listening to him. Subin is always right and he likes being right.

Quite frankly, Byungchan doesn’t like that.

He doesn’t like it when Subin is right.

“I knew you were going to listen to me,” Subin says, proudly. He’s walking ahead of Byungchan.

Byungchan thinks that, to someone who doesn’t know them, it would look like Subin is the one who is heading to meet a complete stranger and _Byungchan_ is the one who was forced to tag along. Subin is a couple of meters ahead of him and he looks so confident that he knows where he’s going.

(He doesn’t.)

“You didn’t,” Byungchan replies. He grabs the sleeve of Subin’s jacket and pulls him left. “Sejun said he’s sitting on the left side of the café.”

Subin stumbles before he falls into step with Byungchan.

He frowns at him.

“I was the one who made the suggestion and you listened to me,” Subin says. Byungchan rolls his eyes.

“I panicked, and I suddenly thought of your stupid idea, Sub. It’s different,” he replies.

Subin sticks his nose in the air and huffs.

“You’re still doing what I told you to do,” he says. “So, I’m winning.”

Byungchan doesn’t bother answering him. Subin is right.

There isn’t anyone on the left side of the café and Byungchan would think that they’re being stood up if they weren’t ten minutes early. Sejun _did_ tell him over the phone that he had class until four. An hour isn’t that much time to get out of class and get ready for a meeting with a stranger.

Unless Sejun just naturally looks so good that he’s comfortable with meeting a complete stranger straight out of class. Byungchan doesn’t have that kind of confidence but he thinks Sejun might.

After all, he’s offering himself to play any role for someone for _food._ In Byungchan’s mind, that means that, surely, he’s got some confidence in his looks.

Quietly, he mutters to Subin, “I don’t think he’s here yet. Where do you want to sit?”

Subin blinks at him. He points to one of the booths near the window.

“Do I sit next to you or across from you?” he asks, “What looks more like I’m just a friend who is here for moral support and not like we’re on a date?”

Byungchan makes a face.

“Sit wherever you want,” he says. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I would ever date you.”

Subin rolls his eyes.

“Cool,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “I wouldn’t date you either, hyung. But would a complete stranger know that? I don’t think they would.”

“That’s offensive,” Byungchan mutters. Subin looks at him.

“You started it.”

The windchime above the door to the café rings.

A tall, dark-haired man pushes open the door and walks into the café. He looks around.

Both Byungchan and Subin freeze, their attention on him. They know they look terribly creepy, but they can’t help but stare.

In a flash, Byungchan grabs Subin’s hand and pulls him to sit next to him.

“Do you think that’s Sejun?” Subin whispers to him.

Byungchan smacks his arm, “You’re so _loud!_ ”

Subin pouts at him.

The beautiful stranger approaches their table, looking down at his phone. He looks a little confused.

He clears his throat and asks Subin, “Are you Byungchan, by any chance?”

Subin stares at him like a deer in headlights, stunned silent.

Byungchan shakes him subtly to snap him back to reality. It doesn’t really work.

Byungchan takes matters into his own hands.

“That’s me,” he says, pulling Subin out of the way.

Subin stumbles and falls awkwardly into his side. He stares up at him awkwardly. Byungchan ignores the way that Subin stares at him with a mixture of betrayal and interest. It’s a strange look. It suits him, though.

Byungchan clarifies, “I’m Byungchan. He’s not Byungchan.”

The beautiful man smiles. Understanding finally dawns in his eyes, erasing the traces of confusion lingering in his eyes as he watches Byungchan and Subin.

He offers his hand to Byungchan for a shake.

“I’m Sejun,” he says. “We spoke on the phone this morning. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 _Wow,_ he thinks. _Sejun is hot._

Byungchan blinks rapidly.

_Cool. That’s cool. That’s so cool._

Then, forcing himself to act like a normal person who isn’t stunned by the beauty of the man standing in front of him, Byungchan awkwardly reaches past Subin to shake Sejun’s hand.

“Hi, Sejun,” Byungchan whispers weakly. Then, even quieter, he adds, “You’re gorgeous.”

He makes eye contact with Subin over the younger man’s shoulder. Subin shoots him a quick look that looks half-shocked at the sudden compliment. (Byungchan is certain that the other half looks a little bit like disgust.)

Subin’s expression suddenly changes.

The corners of his lips quirk up and he looks at him with an amused smirk on his lips.

Byungchan immediately shifts his eyes and pretends he can’t see Subin.

He doesn’t need Subin to say anything for him to know that he’s being terribly embarrassing. He can _feel_ it.

The younger man leans back in the booth to make more room for them to shake hands.

A small smile graces Sejun’s lips. Byungchan immediately notices the deep dimple in his cheek.

“Thank you,” he replies. Byungchan feels the embarrassment seeping through his bones.

Sejun must be used to compliments. He barely reacts.

Byungchan isn’t surprised.

“You’re very handsome, too,” Sejun says. “I think we make a great match, visually.”

Subin nods in agreement. He’s so eager that Byungchan feels embarrassed for him.

This isn’t exactly the first meeting he was picturing.

“And you are?” he asks Subin after letting go of Byungchan’s hand.

Subin grins.

“I’m Subin,” he says. “I’m Byungchan hyung’s friend. I’m going to be tagging along with him for Chuseok.”

Sejun blinks.

“That’s great,” he says. He tilts his head with a smile, pleasant. He offers his hand to Subin for a shake, “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

Byungchan clears his throat.

“Subin, come sit on the inside,” he mutters quietly. “I’m sick of you stealing my dates.”

Sejun laughs at that.

“He’s cute,” he says. Subin beams. “Like a baby.” Subin’s smile drops a little.

With a sigh, Subin moves from his seat at the booth to switch places with Byungchan.

Smoothly, Sejun slides into the booth across from Byungchan.

“So,” he starts to say, “should we order some drinks and discuss business?”

Byungchan nods his head rapidly. Sejun smiles at him.

“Perfect,” he says. “I’m all yours.”

Byungchan takes a breath.

_He wasn’t expecting Sejun to be so gorgeous._

* * *

It takes a grand total of fifteen minutes after their drinks are delivered to their table for Byungchan to learn that Sejun is an extremely impressive character. Not in a bad way, he just isn’t anything he seems to be.

Byungchan learns a lot about him in the half-hour they spend discussing what Byungchan needs him for.

Sejun is incredibly cheerful and bright. He’s like a ray of sunlight on an early summer morning, coming to wake the world up. And he isn’t nearly as professional as he sounded over the phone (which Byungchan considers a major perk). He’s easily excited. He laughs loudly, and he gets along with Subin really well. He gets along with Subin _so_ well that he offers to pay for his drink when Subin struggles to find his wallet—which Byungchan hasn’t done since Subin graduated high school. A part of Byungchan is half-terrified that Sejun might have better chemistry with _Subin_ than he does with him.

If he does, it’s just a minor issue they would need to work through.

They would have to change their story a little to match _why_ they match so well.

It doesn’t seem too difficult. Surely, it can’t be that bad.

Still, as Byungchan looks between his childhood best friend and Sejun, he feels like he’s trying to convince himself of something untrue, but he doesn’t even know Sejun well enough to judge.

The conversation yields expected results: Sejun is pleased with the promise of food (cooked by Byungchan’s mother) in exchange for his services and Byungchan is promised a few days of having a fake boyfriend.

It isn’t a bad deal.

It doesn’t sound like it’ll be too bad at all.

Sejun promises that he’ll text Byungchan details later when he leaves with an apology because he needs to be home to make dinner for his roommate—whom he vaguely implies might be the _Seungwoo_ character that Byungchan spoke with earlier in the morning. He promises that they’ll work on their story over text. Before he leaves, he gives Byungchan the green light to promise his sister that there will be _three_ guests at Chuseok.

As soon as Sejun is out of sight, Subin turns to look at Byungchan with a huge smile on his face.

It makes him look like a cat.

A wicked cat who knows he’s going to get everything he wants, even without asking for it.

It’s his charm, and Byungchan doesn’t have the strength to fight him. Ever.

“Sejun hyung is really handsome,” Subin remarks. He looks so pleased with himself. He looks like he set up a blind date and his pride and joy is that the end couple looks _great_ together.

The truth is that Subin didn’t do anything aside from plant the seed of getting a fake boyfriend for the holidays in Byungchan’s head. It’s all he did.

He deserves just a bit more credit than Hanse gets for the mess.

And Hanse gets nothing.

“If you think he’s so handsome, _you_ date him,” Byungchan retorts. He scrunches up his nose.

Subin snorts.

“Oh my god, hyung,” Subin says. He looks at him weirdly over the top of his smoothie, the straw of the drink still in his mouth, “I’m not the one who _needs_ him.”

Byungchan chooses to take full offence to that.

* * *

Byungchan nearly has a heart attack later that night when Sejun texts him from an unknown number and asks him if he prefers _‘babe’_ , _‘baby’_ , or _‘just Byungchan’_.

He picks his own name and Sejun replies to his message with a frowning emoticon and a broken heart emoticon. And, somehow, he feels like he’s actually broken a heart.

Sejun _also_ sends him an ominous smiley face at midnight, telling Byungchan to save _this_ number as Sejun’s.

In blind confusion, Byungchan obeys (and saves the other number with a bunch of question marks).

* * *

It all happens quickly. A week passes faster than Byungchan expects it to.

Suddenly, they’re already on the doorstep of his childhood home and Byungchan feels too nervous to ring the doorbell. He feels unprepared and he doesn’t think he knows Sejun well enough to pull off the lies in front of his parents (and his sister). He doesn’t know if Sejun knows _him_ well enough.

They’re supposed to be a new couple, but he doesn’t know if the information he knows about Sejun classifies as information a four-month-old couple should know about one another.

He’s so nervous that he can’t even ring the doorbell.

Subin, out of the kindness of his pure heart, does it for him.

The door opens quickly. It’s his mother.

_“Oh!”_

Byungchan’s mother sounds delighted. Her eyes sparkle when she looks at Subin, “Oh, Subin! Look at how much you’ve grown! You’ve gotten so handsome!”

If Subin were standing any closer to the door, Byungchan swears he would have gotten his cheeks pinched in endearment. Luckily for Subin, he’s standing closest to the door but he’s not quite close enough for Byungchan’s mother to reach him. He’s spared from any squishing, this time.

He beams at her like the innocent angel of a boy she seems to think he is. “Thank you, Auntie.”

Byungchan frowns from behind them. “Mom, you saw him five months ago. He hasn’t grown at all.”

His mother finally turns to look at him with a frown. Before she can scold him for being mean to Subin, her eyes fix on the man standing behind Byungchan. Her eyes brighten as soon as she sees Sejun.

“Oh, my! Byungchannie!” she calls, her tone sounding impossibly sweet. Byungchan feels a part of his soul shrivelling. “Byungchannie, who is _this_ handsome boy you’ve brought home with you?”

Byungchan clears his throat awkwardly.

“Um,” he starts, brilliantly. “This is Sejun, mom. He… he’s…”

Sejun spares a single glance at Byungchan before he steps forward and offers her his hand.

He flashes a charming smile that has Byungchan suddenly reeling.

It’s the same smile he used when they first met. The smile that had Byungchan staring embarrassingly.

(He feels like he might be embarrassing again.)

“Hello,” he says, squeezing her hand gently. “My name is Sejun. I’m Byungchannie’s boyfriend.” The way his name rolls off Sejun’s tongue is so easy that Byungchan feels his head spinning. He hopes it isn’t obvious that he looks shocked. “He talks _so_ much about you. I’m so happy to finally meet you, ma’am.”

Byungchan’s mother giggles behind her free hand. She sounds delighted.

She shoots Byungchan a meaningful look.

“This one has _lovely_ manners,” she comments.

Then, she clasps her hand on top of Sejun’s. She gives him a kind smile and gently guides him into the house, “You bunch must be tired from the drive. Come in and get settled!”

Subin hops in after him. He tugs Byungchan with him.

Byungchan glances at Sejun over the top of Subin’s head. The other man still looks distracted by his mother. He clears his throat to get Sejun’s attention. He hopes the urgency in his eyes delivers the _‘please blink three times if you need help’_ message well.

Sejun flashes him a reassuring smile.

 _Sejun,_ Byungchan decides, _is a soldier._

Byungchan’s mother speaks again, snapping him out of his focus on Sejun.

Suddenly, he notices that Subin is already missing. _Traitor._

Swallowing his nerves, he turns to look at her. She has already let go of Sejun’s hands and she’s standing right beside him, looking up at him with a smile.

“Subin knows where the guest room is, so he’s already gone ahead. You should show Sejun to your room, Byungchannie,” his mother says, affectionately. She pats his shoulder. “You two should get settled and rest up a little bit! Your father is still out grocery shopping with your sister.”

Byungchan feels his soul dying, again.

Oh, no.

“Yeah,” he croaks. He makes eye contact with Sejun again.

_Oh, no._

* * *

Byungchan thinks that the one who should be thinking three times because he needs help is himself, but the truth is that this is _his_ childhood home and Sejun can’t help him.

Sejun is absolutely powerless and he can’t help him at all.

Byungchan is all alone without anyone to respond to his pleas for help, no matter how many times he blinks.

Subin wouldn’t help him. Subin would just laugh at him.

Truthfully, Byungchan feels like laughing at himself.

He didn’t think this through at all.

Standing in the doorway of his childhood bedroom, Byungchan turns to Sejun and his blood runs cold.

“We have a small problem,” he announces. He hopes it’s quiet enough for just Sejun to hear. He hopes that the panic in his voice isn’t too obvious that it can be heard from across the home. He doesn’t need his parents to know that he’s on the verge of losing his mind and going absolutely apeshit.

Sejun peers into the room from behind him, curiously. Byungchan looks at him, worriedly.

“What’s the problem?” Sejun asks.

Byungchan eyes the layout of his bedroom and clears his throat. Without expanding on his thoughts, his eyes focus on the bed in the middle of his room. He’s so glad that his parents decided he was big enough of a boy to throw out the single bed he grew up with, but the problem still lies in the fact that there is only one bed and his consciousness simply won’t let Sejun sleep on the floor.

“Oh,” Sejun says. The realization hits him. He glances at Byungchan, a little awkwardly. He frowns, “I mean… I can just sleep on the floor, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry. It’s not that big of an issue.”

Byungchan grabs his arm and pulls him into his bedroom. He shuts the door behind them.

He holds a finger up to his lips. He explains, “We can’t let my family hear us.”

Sejun nods in understanding. He turns around and surveys the room.

“I can’t let you sleep on the floor, Sejun,” Byungchan says.

Sejun laughs.

“What are you going to do? Share the bed with me?” he asks.

Byungchan hesitates.

Sejun pauses. He looks at him in surprise.

“Wait, really?”

Byungchan feels his cheeks flushing with colour. He looks away, unable to look at Sejun. “Listen, I really don’t want to sound creepy or anything, that’s really not my intention, but I mean, it’s not a small bed. I’m pretty sure we can both squish onto it without making it awkward.”

Sejun blinks. He turns to look at the bed.

Then, he turns to look at Byungchan.

“You won’t be uncomfortable with a stranger in your bed?” Sejun asks.

Byungchan bites down on his lower lip.

“Listen,” he says. He shifts awkwardly under Sejun’s gaze, “I can’t let you sleep on the floor. You’re in an unfamiliar place for the holidays, god knows how far away from your own home. I’m only offering you food for you to lie to my parents about dating me for a few days. Surely, I can’t _also_ make you sleep on the floor.”

Sejun bites back a small smile.

“You’re so thoughtful, Byungchan,” he says. He places a comforting hand on the younger man’s shoulder and shakes his head. “But I’ll be okay with the floor, I promise. It’s not that deep.”

Byungchan huffs out a breath of air. He makes up his mind for Sejun.

He takes Sejun’s bag from his hands and places it onto the floor.

He asks, “Which side of the bed do you prefer? Left or right?”

Sejun’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Byungchan, wait!”

 _“No!”_ Byungchan nearly yells, pushing Sejun closer to the bed. He holds him by his shoulders. “What do you like?”

Sejun shrieks.

“Left!” he screams, “Left! I’ll take the left!”

Byungchan sits down on the right side of the bed.

“I’ll stick to my side,” he promises. “I just don’t want you sleeping on the floor.”

Sejun flashes him a shy smile. He settles down next to Byungchan on the left side of the bed.

“Thanks.”

* * *

It’s almost surprising how well Sejun fits into their family. Or maybe Byungchan is surprised by everything involving Sejun at this point in his life. (He has yet to decide if that’s normal.)

He almost looks like he belongs in his place right beside Byungchan. If they ignored everything else around them, it didn’t really feel like it was his first time sitting at the table with Byungchan. Byungchan isn’t sure how he does it. Maybe it’s his chemistry with Subin that makes it a lot easier, or maybe Sejun is used to having dinner with a bunch of strangers for whatever reason.

What Byungchan is certain of is that his comfort can’t possibly be attributed to the fact that there are three sets of eyes staring right at them. His mother, father and sister are all staring at them like prying hawks. Sejun seems fine with all eyes on him but Byungchan feels like his insides are rotting.

He must have been spacing out a little too far, or maybe he was letting his thoughts show on his face, because Subin kicks him under the table. It’s quick but the pain is sharp because Subin has knives for feet.

Byungchan hisses and shoots him a quick glare.

He’s too loud and he catches Sejun’s attention. With concern in his eyes, Sejun quickly puts his hand on Byungchan’s shoulder and tilts his head to look at him.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks, quietly.

 _Baby?_ Byungchan flushes.

He feels the way that the heat rushes to his cheeks, immediately. He feels all eyes at the table shift to him. He doesn’t have the time to register that Sejun did _not_ call him by his preferred pet name (read: his name).

He covers his mouth with his hand and quickly nods his head, as if his reassurance would magically remove Sejun’s hand from his shoulder and he would return to his state of being calm and controlled. He doesn’t know if Sejun is acting or if he’s sincere but, because of the way that Sejun looks at him, there’s a strange fluttering in his gut that tells him he must look like a mess.

Quite frankly, he doesn’t really know what calm and controlled means.

“I’m fine,” he replies, his voice muffled by his hand. He’s glad that it is because he swears he sounds like a suffocating chipmunk when he replies.

From across the table, Subin is grinning at him. Byungchan shoots him a dirty look. Subin bats his lashes.

“Are you okay, hyung?” he asks. Byungchan frowns. _The little shit._

He bites back the urge to say something mean when Sejun rubs his shoulder, comfortingly. He smiles at him and Byungchan feels his irritation melting away. Sejun is really good at the affectionate gaze thing and Byungchan thinks he might be in trouble if he keeps looking Sejun in the eye.

He quickly looks down at his bowl.

The questioning at the dinner table is kept to a minimum. But, as Subin predicted, Sejun manages to answer all of the questions without any issues. He studied his Byungchan facts well and he acts so naturally that Byungchan almost forgets that Sejun isn’t actually his real boyfriend.

“How did you meet?” Byungchan’s sister asks. She looks curious.

 _This is the part of the story they had trouble working out._ Byungchan swallows and he hopes it isn’t too obvious. He doesn’t look up from his bowl, leaving Sejun to deal with the backstory. They can’t risk somehow messing up their details somewhere in the middle of the story. They need to be cohesive.

Sejun turns to look at him with a small smile on his lips. Byungchan awkwardly meets his eyes when he feels his eyes on him. He freezes with his chopsticks in his mouth.

“Yes?” he asks. Sejun chuckles.

He reaches for Byungchan’s free hand and loosely links their fingers together. “Can I tell them, baby?”

Byungchan resists the urge to choke this time. He clears his throat.

“Tell them what?” he asks. Sejun smiles.

“How we met, silly,” he says. Byungchan stares at him with wide eyes. He hopes that only Sejun understands that the unflattering _‘deer in headlights, positively panicking because he doesn’t know what to do’_ look means something along the lines of _‘why are you asking me like I know the answer to that?’_

Byungchan’s sister narrows her eyes.

“Are you shy, Byungchan?” she asks.

He flushes.

Byungchan shakes his head.

“No!” he exclaims, “It’s not like that!”

“Sejun hyung was my TA,” Subin says, suddenly.

All eyes turn to Subin.

“Byungchan hyung is shy because he doesn’t want to admit that he started walking me to class and waiting for me outside of my classroom just to see Sejun hyung, once a week,” Subin continues. He keeps his eyes on Byungchan while he speaks. “You can thank me for them getting together.”

Byungchan’s blood runs cold. _Is this some kind of improv?_

He glances at Sejun from the corner of his eye. Sejun looks surprised, too.

Then, his expression changes when Byungchan’s mother turns to look at him. It softens into a shy smile.

“It’s not like I didn’t start looking forward to seeing him, too,” he says, softly.

It sounds so shy that Byungchan feels his heart swell with affection in his chest as if the story were real. He reaches for Sejun’s hand and squeezes it softly. He flashes him a small smile.

“Subin has been teasing me about it being just me for months,” he mutters. “Good to know it’s not just me.”

“Of course,” Sejun says. He actually sounds fond when he says it. He links his fingers with Byungchan’s and smiles at him, “Look at you, baby. How could I _not_ look forward to seeing you?”

“Stop that,” Byungchan mutters.

Byungchan swats at him, shyly. It’s instinctive. It feels real.

Byungchan’s mother clasps her hands together and coos at them, fondly. She beams.

With a smile on her lips, she picks up a dumpling with her chopsticks and places it into Sejun’s bowl.

“Eat up, you lovebirds,” she says.

Byungchan immediately looks at her, betrayed that she chose to feed Sejun before him.

“Mom,” he whines. “I’m your _son_. Your _only_ son.”

She tuts at him.

Sejun quickly moves his chopsticks and places a dumpling into Byungchan’s bowl.

“For you,” he says. He smiles at him, sweetly, dimple and all.

Byungchan freezes.

He feels his heart leap in his chest.

_Oh, fuck. Oh, no._

He immediately looks down at his bowl, feelings his ears burning red.

Byungchan mumbles under his breath, “Thanks.”

His heart pounds.

* * *

“Your family is a lot nicer than I thought they would be,” Sejun remarks. His voice is soft. He’s laying on his side, on his side of the bed with his eyes half-closed. He looks tired.

After dinner, his family pulled out board games and insisted they play together. It’s a tradition and Byungchan couldn’t refuse them. Even Sejun looked excited to play with a large group of people. Subin had been thrilled to beat Byungchan in a vicious game of Monopoly, but the game lasted so long that everyone else ended up tired and bored out of their minds. As one of the first people who went bankrupt, Sejun had nothing to do but hang on Byungchan’s shoulder and watch him play.

Sejun was so tired that he collapsed on his side of the bed as soon as they were dismissed to retire to their rooms.

Tired but still unwilling to rest for the night, Byungchan sits at the edge of his bed, looking down at Sejun. He leans back against the headboard and closes his eyes.

“Did you think you’d run into a bad family?” he asks. There’s a small, amused smile on his lips.

Sejun shakes his head. He shifts on the bed and tucks his arm beneath the pillow, making himself comfortable.

“No,” he says. “Of course not. I just didn’t think they’d be so welcoming.”

Byungchan chuckles, opening his eyes to look up at the ceiling.

“It’s only you, Subin and I who know that this is fake,” he says. “There’s no reason for them to not be nice to you. They think you’re my boyfriend. I’ve never brought a boy home before.”

Sejun hums.

“Never?”

Byungchan looks back down, making eye contact with Sejun.

He replies, “Never.”

Sejun laughs. He shifts on the bed again, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He snuggles comfortably into it.

“Does it feel weird for your first to be a stranger?”

Byungchan shrugs. He purses his lips and studies Sejun for a moment.

He shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “You’re not bad.”

Sejun hides a smile, but his eyes seem to glimmer in the moonlight filtering through the window.

“That’s good,” he says. His voice is quiet, but he sounds happy, “You think I’m not bad. That’s good.”

Sejun covers his mouth with the edge of the blanket and closes his eyes. Byungchan can see the traces of his smile in the way the corners of his eyes just barely crinkle.

Byungchan doesn’t really know why he feels the need to smile. He gives into the instinct.

“Hey,” he calls, quietly. His voice is so gentle when he speaks. He’s afraid that Sejun has already fallen asleep.

Sejun hums in response and raises an eyebrow without opening his eyes.

“Did you plan that thing with Subin at dinner?” he asks. Sejun cracks open an eye and looks at him.

“What thing?” he asks. Then, it hits him. “Oh.”

Sejun purses his lips.

“No,” he says. “We didn’t plan that. He pulled it out of his ass.”

Byungchan blinks, surprised. “Really?”

Sejun nods his head. He tilts his head, confused, “I don’t know how he knew I was actually a TA, though. I swear I’ve never had him in one of my classes before.”

“Lucky guess?” he suggests. Sejun nods his head.

“Maybe,” he says. “I’d remember him if I taught him.”

Byungchan raises an eyebrow.

“Because he’s cute?”

Sejun laughs.

He hums, “Because he’s cute.”

Byungchan rolls his eyes, amused.

“You’ve complimented him twice already,” he says. He finally lays down on the bed next to Sejun and turns to look at the other man. He tucks his arm underneath his head, exhaling in relief as his head hits the pillow. “If you want me to set you two up after this, _please_ , let me know.”

Sejun tosses the other side of the blanket over Byungchan’s body. There’s a small smile on his lips.

“How will I face your family if I somehow end up dating Subin?” he asks. He sounds amused. “You brought me home to your parents and suddenly, I ended up dating your childhood friend? Sounds like betrayal to me.”

“Are you saying you _would_ date him?”

Sejun laughs. He shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “He’s cute, but you’re cuter.”

Byungchan huffs, half laughter and half air. He rolls away from Sejun.

“Go to sleep,” he says. Sejun giggles at him. He adds as a quiet murmur, “Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Byungchan. Sleep well.”

(He pretends he isn’t blushing.)

* * *

The next morning doesn’t carry the heavy expectation of needing to interact with his family.

The next morning doesn’t hold him accountable for the fact that he chose to introduce his family to a fake boyfriend.

In fact, he wakes up late and Sejun isn’t in bed next to him. The house is dead quiet.

He wakes to the scent of vanilla wafting to him from the kitchen.

Drowsy and slightly confused, Byungchan (almost unwillingly) drags himself out of bed and trudges to the kitchen to find the source of the smell.

To his surprise, he finds Sejun in the kitchen, standing behind the kitchen island, busy with a mixing bowl. He’s so focused on what he’s doing that Byungchan thinks he doesn’t notice Byungchan standing in the doorway. For a moment, Byungchan simply watches him work, unsure of what to do or say.

The realization that it’s a little creepy to be standing there wordlessly hits him later.

But Sejun notices him before he can vocally make his presence known. He looks up from the bowl.

“Hi,” Sejun greets him. He looks happy to be in the kitchen. He’s wearing a pink apron that definitely belongs to Byungchan’s sister and there’s a little bit of flour smeared on his cheek. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. What are you doing here?” Byungchan asks, leaning against the door frame. His voice is raspy with sleep and he’s still squinting at Sejun. He absently thinks that he must look horrible compared to Sejun, who looks like sunshine personified (and dressed in a pink apron). He tilts his head. Then, as an afterthought, he asks, “Where did everyone else go?”

Sejun smiles. He stops mixing the batter in the bowl and shrugs, “Everyone went grocery shopping. They took Subin with them.” He glances at Byungchan, “I said I’d stay behind and wait for you to wake up. I didn’t want to leave you all alone at home.”

Byungchan glances at the bowl and rubs his eyes.

“How long have you been up?” he asks. “What time is it?”

Sejun laughs.

“I’ve been up for a few hours now,” he says. “I woke up when your father woke up.”

Byungchan frowns, “He wakes up at like, six in the morning.”

Sejun nods his head.

“Yes,” he replies. “He does. And I did too. I’m an early riser, Byungchan.”

“Wow,” Byungchan says. He squishes his cheek against the door frame, still sleepy. “You’re amazing.”

Sejun laughs at that.

He shakes his head, “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” He raises an eyebrow at Byungchan, “Did you sleep well? You look like you just slept enough to last through the next few weeks.”

“I’m a student, Sejun,” he says, “I never sleep well.”

“Is that so?” Sejun smiles to himself. “Tell that to the boy who was snoring in my ear last night.”

Byungchan covers his mouth, horrified.

“I snored?” he asks, “In your ear? Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

Sejun laughs. He shakes his head, “No. I’m just kidding. You just breathe really loudly, but it isn’t a problem. I slept fine, Byungchan. And you slept like a baby.”

Byungchan resists the urge to pout at him. He closes his eyes and presses his forehead against the doorframe, groaning.

“Okay,” he says. “So, maybe you’re right and I _did_ sleep really well.”

Sejun’s eyes twinkle. “Is it because of me?”

Byungchan rolls his eyes at him.

“What are you talking about?”

Sejun hums in response. He doesn’t bother to expand further on his thoughts. Byungchan is left wondering what he means without another clue. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions and assume Sejun means something along the lines of Sejun being his key to sleeping well _because_ of anything in particular, but he can’t help the thoughts from overtaking his mind.

_What does he mean?_

_Why does he make Byungchan sleep well?_

_Is he just teasing him about having someone in bed with him?_

Byungchan feels like he might lose his mind if he thinks too hard about Sejun’s words. There’s a cryptic smile on Sejun’s lips when he looks up at him, visibly having a crisis, though. Sejun looks pleased with how lost Byungchan seems to be.

_The demon. Sejun is a demon. A very handsome demon._

Byungchan doesn’t have the guts to ask him to clarify, though.

So, they fall into silence as Byungchan watches Sejun mix the batter in the bowl from the doorway.

Sejun glances up at him after a moment.

He says, “Oh, I also promised him that I would bake a cake for the family. So, you should go wash up and come help me before your parents think that you’re a bad boyfriend.”

Byungchan gasps. He clutches his chest with his hands as if Sejun’s accusation hurt.

(A part of him is convinced that his mother would take Sejun’s side if there was anything that made Byungchan look even slightly like a bad boyfriend. He brushes that thought off.)

“But I don’t even know how to bake!” Byungchan says, “I can’t be framed as a bad boyfriend for simply _not_ knowing what to do!”

Sejun snorts at him. He’s smiling despite his reaction.

He waves his hand in a shooing motion.

He says, “Go wash up, you baby. I’ll do all the work. You can wash the dishes.”

He huffs out a betrayed laugh.

“I can’t believe you’re making me work in my own house,” Byungchan says.

Sejun raises the clean whisk at him threateningly.

Byungchan laughs and runs to the washroom.

(He spends the entire time in the shower wondering why it feels so natural to joke around with Sejun.)

* * *

As promised, Sejun only expects Byungchan to wash everything that he passes him.

For the most part, it means that Byungchan awkwardly lingers behind Sejun and watches him mix ingredients together. Byungchan realizes that he doesn’t know half of what the ingredients Sejun uses are. He likes to think of himself as relatively decent in the kitchen because he makes instant ramen well enough to live alone, but he doesn’t know how to bake. At all.

So, watching Sejun turn a bunch of seemingly random ingredients into a batter looks like magic.

Or maybe he’s just fascinated by Sejun in general, but he doesn’t have the guts to admit that to himself, yet.

Byungchan watches him over his shoulder and asks him stupid questions until Sejun hands him a rubber spatula to swirl around in soapy water. He doesn’t do anything of use but Sejun promises they can share the credit.

“Why did you promise to bake my father a cake?” he asks, while he’s swishing the rubber spatula in the water. It’s creating a questionably coloured soapy mess in the sink, but it fascinates Byungchan more than it disgusts him.

Sejun glances back at him.

“Why not?” he asks. He tilts his head, “I was talking to your sister about cake and he overheard us.”

Byungchan blinks, “You were talking to my sister?”

“Your family is really nice, Byungchan,” he says. He smiles a little. “I don’t know, she woke up early and came to the living room and I felt weird if I just retreated to your room to hide. So, she started talking to me because I think she thought I felt a little awkward sitting with your father.”

Byungchan chuckles.

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Feel awkward with my dad,” Byungchan clarifies. Sejun laughs quietly.

“Maybe,” he replies. “I’ll definitely say that I was very grateful that your sister woke up early, though. Without you, I only know Subin and even then, we’re not close enough for me to just hang out with him.”

“Are we?” Byungchan asks. “Close, I mean.”

Sejun tilts the bowl of batter and pours it into the cake tin. There’s a mischievous smile on his lips. “I don’t know… I mean, we _did_ just sleep in the same bed, last night. Tell me, _are_ we close, boyfriend?”

Byungchan scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. He rinses off the rubber spatula and tosses it into the disk rack.

“I forgot about that,” he mutters. Sejun laughs.

“Have you gotten so comfortable with having me around that you’ve forgotten why I’m here, Byungchannie?” Sejun teases. He moves past Byungchan to open the oven and pop his cakes into it. He dusts off his hands on the apron.

Byungchan leans against the counter with a frown.

He scrunches up his nose, feeling a little embarrassed. “You’re cool to have around.”

Sejun laughs.

“I’m just teasing you,” he says. He brushes past Byungchan again to pick up the dirty bowls to hand to Byungchan to wash. “If you’re comfortable with having me around, then that just means that I’m doing my job well, right?”

He places the bowls into the sink.

Gently, he nudges Byungchan with a smile.

Byungchan nudges him back with a laugh.

“I guess you’re right,” he says. “You’re doing a really good job. I think my parents love you.”

Sejun chuckles and leans against the counter next to Byungchan, watching as he washes the bowls.

“You do?”

Byungchan nods. “Growing up, I always had to worry about Subin stealing my parent’s affections because he’s so cute. Now, it looks like I have to start worrying about you, too.”

Sejun laughs.

“I’m nowhere near as lovable as Subin is,” he says. He pokes Byungchan’s shoulder, “I think you’re lovable enough to keep your parents’ attention. You have nothing to worry about.”

Byungchan grins. “You don’t think you’re cuter than me?”

Sejun playfully pokes his own cheek with his finger.

“Do _you_ think I’m cuter than you?”

Byungchan rolls his eyes.

“I think you would be a million times cuter than me if you grab me that whisk from over there,” he says.

Sejun laughs at that, it’s a bright and cheerful sound that has Byungchan’s heart fluttering. It’s strange.

Byungchan doesn’t have the guts to look directly into Sejun’s eyes when he’s smiling so brightly. It’s so strange.

Sejun moves when Byungchan tears his eyes away from him. He pushes himself off of the counter and moves to grab the whisk he’d missed when he brought everything over to the sink for Byungchan to wash.

As he turns to grab the whisk from the kitchen island, he stumbles over his own feet.

He yelps when he loses his balance.

“Hey, watch your step!” Byungchan immediately whirls around and reaches out to grab Sejun before he falls.

It feels like a rush of air. It all happens too quickly.

The adrenaline still pulses through him when he grabs Sejun.

His hands are still wet and soapy, but he has his arms securely wrapped around Sejun’s waist.

With his arm wrapped around Sejun’s waist, Byungchan finds himself suddenly so aware of how close they are to one another. Suddenly, he’s aware that he can see each eyelash above Sejun’s eyes. At this distance, he notices that Sejun’s eyes are even prettier than he thought they were.

He feels himself holding his breath and he doesn’t know why.

Sejun is wide-eyed and staring up at him. His cheeks are slightly flushed and he’s looking right at Byungchan. Byungchan feels that leap in his chest again; his heart.

He doesn’t know if it’s the rush of adrenaline or if it’s the look in Sejun’s eyes.

Instinctively, he raises his thumb and brushes the small smear of flour away from Sejun’s cheek.

“You still have something here,” he murmurs. His finger lingers on Sejun’s cheek, just centimetres away from his lips. Byungchan’s eyes darted to his lips; pink and pretty. He loses himself in his thoughts.

_Sejun is so pretty._

Sejun is holding his breath. Byungchan can feel the way his heart seems to race, faint and quick against him. Byungchan thinks that it might just be his imagination. It might just be the fact that he nearly fell. It must be the rush of fear.

(It doesn’t explain why Sejun’s cheeks are flushed pink, though. But Byungchan brushes that off.)

“Thanks,” Sejun mumbles. He places his palms against Byungchan’s chest and swallows.

His eyes darted down to Byungchan’s lips. Then, he looks away.

Quietly, he says, “I think I can stand on my own, now.”

Like being doused with cold water, Byungchan snaps back to reality.

He quickly releases Sejun and steps back.

Sejun stumbles backwards a little and hits the side of the kitchen island. He hisses quietly.

Byungchan rushes to check him for injuries.

“Oh my God,” he says, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Sejun laughs. It’s quieter than it usually is. He shakes his head and moves past Byungchan to the oven.

It’s only been a few minutes and the cake doesn’t need to be checked on, just yet. Byungchan doesn’t need to be told to know that Sejun is just trying to avoid his eyes. He isn’t an idiot.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” Sejun says after a moment of silence. He turns back to look at Byungchan before he opens the oven door, “Just a little flustered.”

Byungchan’s cheeks heat up.

 _He_ feels flustered too.

He pretends to scrub an invisible smear on the whisk.

* * *

Sejun is whisked away from him when his parents come back from the grocery store with Subin.

They don’t get a chance to talk about the awkwardness that comes with flustering someone by being a little too touchy just because he was falling. Without conversation to clear up the tension, the awkwardness covers them like a heavy blanket, but they don’t get the chance to talk about it.

It makes Byungchan feel like he’s made a mistake because Sejun can’t look him directly in the eye anymore.

So, while Sejun’s attention is overwhelmed by his mother and sister, Byungchan retires to his room and pretends it didn’t happen. It’s easier to pretend that it didn’t happen, after all. Especially when he’s alone.

He collapses on his bed when he shuts the door to his room and rolls over.

It’s easier to think when it’s quiet.

His mind wanders when he shuts his eyes.

To Byungchan, it’s almost amazing to him that his family seems to love Sejun more than they love him.

He supposes that Sejun is charming, though. He’s pretty and he’s charming.

There isn’t anything not to love about him. Byungchan understands the appeal.

_It’d be nice to have someone like Sejun actually be his boyfriend._

Byungchan catches himself. _No,_ he thinks, _it’d be nice to introduce someone like Sejun to his family as his boyfriend because he’s a good person. He’s charming and lovable. His family loves him._

He supposes he’s already done that, though. It’s all a lie but he can’t shake the idea that it would be nice to have their relationship be something real and not for show.

 _Sejun is good._ He’s only known him for a little under a week, but he can see the genuine brightness in Sejun’s eyes when he smiles at the people around him.

Sejun is _really_ charming. And Byungchan admits that he might be a little fascinated.

Byungchan is lying on his bed, playing on his phone when Sejun is finally freed from the claws of Byungchan’s mother and sister.

There’s a quiet knock on the door. And then, there’s a click as Sejun closes the door behind him.

“Hey,” Sejun whispers as he enters the room. He approaches Byungchan quietly.

Byungchan rolls over on the bed to make space for Sejun. He looks up at Sejun.

“Hey,” he greets.

Sejun stands at the edge of the bed with his hands shoved into his pockets. He offers him a smile.

“Your mom was asking why you didn’t want to help decorate the cake,” he says. Byungchan chuckles.

“She knows I suck with that stuff,” he says. He pats the space next to him on the bed. “Sit down. They must have tired you out. I’m sorry for leaving you alone with them.”

Sejun laughs. He takes a seat at the edge of the bed next to Byungchan.

“It’s not a big deal,” he says. “I’ll miss your family when we leave, I think.”

Byungchan tilts his head. “Have you gotten so attached to them already?”

Sejun shrugs.

“They’re just really nice,” he says. He laughs quietly. It sounds shy. He admits, “I feel really welcome here even though we’re just putting on a show for them.”

“They seem to like you,” Byungchan says. He sits up and leans against the headboard, next to Sejun. They’re sitting so close together that their shoulders almost touch.

Sejun’s eyes brighten a little.

“Do they?” he asks. “That makes me happy to hear. It means I’m doing a good job, right?”

Byungchan nods his head. He chuckles.

“I don’t know how I’m going to break it to them when I eventually have to tell them that we broke up,” he said. “I didn’t think they’d love you so much when I asked you to do this.”

“Sucks that I’m your first, huh?” Sejun says. He scrunches up his nose, “It might have been easier if you had a better ex to compare me to—someone that your family loves more than they love me.”

Byungchan rolls his eyes.

“You think there’s someone better than you?” he asks.

Sejun raises an eyebrow. He looks surprised. “I’m sorry?”

Byungchan’s eyes widen. He suddenly realizes what he said.

He tries to brush it off with an awkward laugh, “I mean like… better at doing this whole fake dating thing. I’ve never asked anyone to do this for me before but… you know, you’re doing a really good job. You know?”

Sejun studies him for a silent moment.

He chuckles.

“Right,” he says. “Don’t worry, I know what you mean.”

“Yeah,” Byungchan says. “Yeah, that’s good.”

He can feel the awkwardness settle between them.

He hates it.

“Have you ever dated someone before?” Byungchan asks, suddenly. Sejun looks at him, obviously surprised to hear the question. Byungchan quickly backtracks, “Like, just because I think you’re doing really well as a boyfriend so, I was wondering if you have experience.”

Sejun laughs, “I have.”

“Oh.”

Sejun leans back against the headboard and closes his eyes.

“It wasn’t anything serious,” he says with a shrug. “I had a one-week fling with my roommate.” He looks at Byungchan, “Seungwoo. You spoke to him when you first called, looking for me.”

“Oh.”

“This was several years ago. We thought we liked each other,” he explains. It must have been obvious that Byungchan wasn’t expecting the answer. “And then, we realized that it’s just a ‘bro’ kind of love. Like, we’re just really good friends and we appreciate each other a lot. So, we just decided that roommates was a better label than dating.”

They make eye contact.

Sejun chuckles, “Please don’t say _‘oh’_ again.”

Byungchan flashes a sheepish smile at him. He rubs the back of his neck, shy.

They fall into silence, again. This time, it’s comfortable.

Wordlessly, Byungchan looks at Sejun.

He takes a breath when Sejun turns to glance at him.

“I asked you about your past relationships so I feel like I need to tell you something, too. You know how I told you that I’ve never brought a boy home to introduce to my family before?” he asks. Sejun nods his head. Byungchan swallows, “I’ve also never had a boy in my room before, either.”

Sejun moves closer to him, inches so close to him that they’re almost touching. He leans his weight onto his hand and moves closer to Byungchan. He has an eyebrow carefully arched. He looks interested.

 _“Oh?”_ he murmurs. “Is that right?”

Byungchan nods his head. Sejun’s eyes flicker up to him and he moves a hand, carefully placing it on Byungchan’s shoulder. He looks up at him from beneath long lashes and Byungchan’s throat feels dry. There’s something almost unreadable between them, but he thinks he knows the look in Sejun’s eyes.

It feels like the moment he caught Sejun in the kitchen again. He feels like leaning closer to Sejun; feels a little like kissing him in the moment.

He feels nervous. He feels the need to ramble.

“Except for Subin,” he says. “Subin doesn’t count though, Subin is like a kid brother.”

He’s suddenly so aware of how close Sejun is. He’s suddenly so aware that Sejun is leaning so close to him that a single slip of his hand could have him crashing right into Byungchan, right on top of Byungchan. And their faces are so close together. He’s practically caged in Sejun’s arms and he feels the need to pull him closer.

His heart pounds in his chest.

Nervously, he licks his lips.

“Subin is like a kid brother to you,” Sejun repeats. His eyes quickly dart to Byungchan’s lips. Then, just as quickly as they moved down, they shift right back up to meet Byungchan’s eyes. “And what am I like?”

Byungchan swallows. He takes a breath and leans a little closer to Sejun.

Their noses are almost brushing and he can feel Sejun’s breath against his face. His heart is pounding.

“You? You’re like…” he murmurs.

There’s a sudden knock at the door.

Byungchan jumps. He jolts away from Sejun, immediately panicking and practically flying halfway across the bed.

Sejun quickly sits up straight and folds his hands into his lap.

He awkwardly looks down at his hands as the door opens.

Subin appears in the doorway.

“Your mom cut some fruits,” Subin says, poking his head into the doorway. He’s holding a plate in his hands and he looks so happy. He holds up a nicely sliced piece of yellow fruit. “We bought some mangoes earlier.”

Neither Byungchan nor Sejun answer him.

Subin makes a face and looks between them as he steps into the room. He frowns.

“What’s with you two? Why are you so quiet?” He frowns, “Why aren’t you excited?”

Byungchan recovers quicker. He shakes his head and waves his hand dismissively.

“Nothing,” he says. He reaches out his hand for the plate of mangoes in Subin’s hands. “Nothing at all. Grab me a piece, Subin.”

He pretends he doesn’t feel Sejun’s gaze lingering on him.

(He can’t look at him without imagining how close they were.)

* * *

It’s day four of being home with his parents. He hasn’t had a real conversation with Sejun in the past twenty-four hours and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to bring up what happened in his room. He isn’t even sure if it’s something he’s allowed to talk about; something he _should_ talk to Sejun about.

Byungchan pretended to already be asleep when Sejun rolled into bed next to him last night. They never got the chance to talk. But it doesn’t throw a wrench into their plans, it seems.

Although they aren’t speaking to one another, it doesn’t seem to affect the way Sejun interacts with his family at all. Sejun still helps his mother out in the kitchen and happily helps his sister fold laundry.

Right now, Byungchan’s mother is teaching g Sejun how to crochet something. They’re seated just a couple meters away from where Byungchan is lying on the couch.

It’s almost strange that a near-stranger fits so well into his family.

It’s also strange that Byungchan feels weird about not talking to Sejun. It’s an unsettling feeling. He almost feels upset.

Byungchan doesn’t need to be told to know that it’s partially his fault but he doesn’t know how to approach the topic.

But he doesn’t know why he feels so oddly about not talking to Sejun in general.

_Is it because he feels like Sejun is his responsibility when he’s under his roof? Is that it?_

Byungchan groans. _That doesn’t even make any sense._

He rolls over on the sofa and buries his face into the pile of cushions on the seat.

Byungchan is lying on the sofa with his face buried into a cushion while his mother teaches Sejun how to crochet a straight line, stressed about his thoughts when Subin plops down on the sofa next to him. Subin picks up the cushion next to Byungchan and leans down to peer at his face.

Byungchan opens an eye to look at him. “Hm?”

Subin doesn’t answer him. He makes himself comfortable on the sofa. And then, he watches Byungchan, quietly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks. Subin shrugs.

Byungchan frowns.

Then, without a word, Subin looks over to where Sejun is sitting with Byungchan’s mother. Sejun looks terribly confused and he’s fumbling with the piece of yarn in his hands. Byungchan follows Subin’s gaze. He chuckles when his eyes find Sejun’s confused eyes. They make eye contact.

Byungchan raises his hand in greeting. Sejun flashes him a shy smile before he goes back to fumbling with the yarn.

“Hm,” Subin murmurs. Byungchan looks at him.

“What?” he asks. “You’re being cryptic.”

Subin tilts his chin in Sejun’s direction. “That’s cute.”

Byungchan blinks. He’s confused. “What’s cute? My mom teaching Sejun how to crochet?”

Subin’s lips curve into a small smile. He shrugs his shoulders.

“Maybe,” he replies. Byungchan furrows his eyebrows.

He nudges Subin with his elbow, “Don’t be so cryptic. You’re creeping me out.”

Subin turns to look him in the eye. For a moment, he’s dead silent and Byungchan thinks that Subin’s silence is leagues creepier than Subin’s cryptic words.

Wordlessly, Subin shifts his eyes between Sejun and Byungchan.

Then, he kicks his legs up and rests his feet on the coffee table. He tucks his hands behind his head with an amused smile on his lips. He looks relaxed. He closes his eyes.

“I don’t know, hyung,” he says. “I just think it’s funny.”

Byungchan frowns. “What? I still don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been so confused in my life, Subin.”

Subin cracks open an eye to look at Byungchan.

He speaks quietly, “I just think it’s really funny that you’ve started looking at Sejun hyung like he put the stars in the sky when this is all supposed to be fake, hyung.”

Byungchan’s heart stops.

* * *

He can’t stop thinking about it. He can’t stop thinking about Subin’s words and they weigh heavily on his mind like a loaded reminder that he’s nothing but a hopeless mess.

Subin said it like it was nothing, but it felt like an epiphany to Byungchan.

And honestly, Subin thinks it’s funny, but Byungchan thinks he’s a little pathetic.

He didn’t realize that every single time he spaced out, his eyes somehow found their way to Sejun. Somehow, he subconsciously smiled every time his eyes fell to Sejun. He didn’t realize how obvious he was.

And he wonders if Sejun ever noticed. _Was he obvious enough that Sejun already knew?_

And, quite frankly, falling for his fake boyfriend wasn’t part of the plan. At this point, though,

Byungchan isn’t even sure what the original plan is supposed to be. _Fool his parents into not being invasive about his love life? Yeah, that worked out pretty well for them. But at what cost?_

His heart pounds when he looks at Sejun and he can’t stop thinking about the moment in his room when they just almost kissed. He can’t help but think about how he wanted it. _How he wants it._

It turns out the cost of hiring Sejun to be his fake boyfriend for a few days ended up with the heavy cost of falling for him. They started with a solid plan to just fake a solid love life for Byungchan for a few days to avoid questions, just for Sejun to earn himself some home-cooked food. It turns out that there was an unwritten warning on Sejun that was supposed to read _‘WARNING: Very Easy to Fall in Love With! Interact with Caution!’_ and now, all he wants is to actually have a love life.

And he would prefer it if it was with Sejun.

It’s one handful of a realization, but Byungchan eventually forces himself to come to terms with the fact that he’s developed a massive crush on Sejun in the past few days they’ve spent together.

There isn’t any avoiding it.

He makes up his mind that he can’t just let Sejun go.

_He doesn’t want to._

He can’t walk away from this past week and pretend that nothing happened. He can’t turn around to his parents in a few months and say, _‘hey, I know you liked Sejun, but he and I broke up because we didn’t work out’._

It’s a strange realization that Byungchan wants them to try for real.

It’s a strange realization that Byungchan wants them to work out because he _likes_ Sejun.

It’s not that his family likes him and Byungchan wants to keep him around for that reason.

Byungchan has a massive crush on Sejun and there’s no point in trying to pretend he doesn’t.

If everything falls apart, Byungchan can deal with heartbreak and pretend it never happened later. They would go back to their own lives when they got back to campus and they could pretend they never met in the first place. It would be easy to get over someone you never knew in the first place. _Surely._

If everything falls apart, at least Byungchan would know that he didn’t let everything slip between his fingers without trying to admit it to Sejun.

“Hey,” Sejun calls him from the floor.

Byungchan snaps out of his thoughts. He turns to look at him, surprised.

“Yeah?”

Sejun tilts his head curiously at him. He’s folding a bright yellow hoodie that Byungchan doesn’t remember ever seeing him wear. “Are you okay?”

“Why do you ask?” he asks. Byungchan looks back down at his hands.

He’s in the middle of folding his clothes to shove back into his bags. It takes him back to reality and grounds him. They’re supposed to be heading back to his place. Byungchan spaced out in the middle of getting ready to leave.

“You look like you’re deep in thought,” Sejun says. “I was just wondering if something was bothering you.”

Byungchan laughs. It’s a little awkward.

“I’m fine,” he says. “I’m just thinking about some things.”

Sejun’s lips curve into an amused smile. He hums, “I can see that you’re thinking.”

Sejun digs through the pocket of his sweatpants and playfully tosses a coin at him. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Byungchan looks at where the coin falls on his bed. _It isn’t a penny._

He lies, “I’m just thinking about how my parents are going to miss you.”

“Are you implying that they won’t miss you? Their only son?” Sejun asks. He raises an eyebrow, amused.

“They’ll miss me,” Byungchan says, “but not in the same way that they’ll miss you. I’ll come back.”

 _You won’t._ He can’t bring himself to say it even though it’s true.

“And I won’t, right?” Sejun leans back against the bed and looks up at Byungchan. He rests his arm over the edge of the bed and leans against it. He leans his chin onto his forearm with a small smile. “I’ll miss them, too.”

Byungchan hesitates for a moment when he looks down at Sejun.

He’s sitting on his bed in front of Sejun and Sejun is so close to him. It gives him flashbacks to just a few nights ago when Sejun was nearly on top of him and he just almost kissed him. The reminder that he still wants to kiss Sejun comes as a hard shove and Byungchan’s heart stutters.

He swallows.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he says, suddenly.

Sejun looks surprised.

“You will?” he asks.

Byungchan nods his head. On pure impulse, Byungchan places his hand on top of the hand that Sejun has on the edge of the bed. “Of course,” he says. “You’re good. I like you.”

Sejun looks up at him. He tilts his head, curiously.

Something glimmers in his eyes but Byungchan doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t know how to describe the way that Sejun’s eyes flicker with an unreadable emotion. He doesn’t have the chance to figure it out.

With a small smile on his lips, Sejun chuckles.

“That’s good,” he says. “I’d hate it if you ended up hating me after just a few days, you know?”

 _That’s not what I meant._ Even now, he doesn’t have the guts to say it.

Byungchan mentally hits himself for not being direct.

“Byungchan,” Sejun calls. Byungchan looks at him.

“Yes, Sejun?”

Sejun has an amused smile on his lips. He tilts his head, “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

Byungchan swallows. He shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sejun leans a little closer to him, his smile suddenly turning mischievous.

“No?”

Byungchan weighs his options with wide eyes.

He’s staring at Sejun like a deer in headlights and he just _knows_ that he looks like an idiot. He doesn’t really know how to stop looking like an idiot when he feels like an idiot, though. He could either say what is lingering on his mind or he could pretend that there wasn’t anything bothering him.

He would be stupider if he didn’t say anything when Sejun was allowing saying anything to him. Sejun was opening a gate for him to say literally _anything_.

_Was he stupid enough to deny that?_

“Actually,” he says. Sejun glances at him, waiting patiently for him to speak. Byungchan moves the hand that is placed on top of Sejun’s hand and awkwardly wipes his sweaty palm on his sweatpants. He swallows his nerves and immediately falters. _“Um.”_

“Take your time,” Sejun says. He looks amused and Byungchan feels flustered.

His talent is being an idiot, he thinks. If Sejun’s talent is being a stellar fake boyfriend, then Byungchan’s talent is being an absolute idiot. There aren’t any benefits to being an idiot, though. _Unfortunately._

Sejun’s talent is something monetizable, but Byungchan’s talent is to simply be an idiot. He doesn’t get rewarded for being an absolute moron.

Sejun turns his palm over and offers it to Byungchan when he’s done wiping his hand on his sweats.

Byungchan stares at it. Sejun giggles behind his other hand.

“Did you want to hold it?” he asks.

“Oh,” he breathes. He quickly reaches for Sejun’s hand and laces their fingers together. “Yeah, I did.”

Sejun laughs. He tilts his head, “Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

_Ah._

Byungchan feels his cheeks burning red.

Oh, no. Oh, _no_. He’s too obvious. _Oh, no._

He swallows hard.

Sejun squeezes his fingers gently and giggles. There’s an amusement that flickers in his eyes and Byungchan feels like he might die if Sejun keeps looking at him like that; pretty eyes and pretty dimple, staring right up at him like he’s waiting for Byungchan to say something specific.

(He _is_.)

“Sejun,” he calls. He feels so nervous.

Sejun hums in response. He presses their palms together with a smile, “Yes, Byungchan?”

Byungchan takes a deep breath. He almost feels overwhelmed with shyness.

He steels his nerves and squeezes Sejun’s hand.

“… Can I kiss you?”

Sejun tugs gently on his hand and moves so that the hand that was holding his is now gently cupping his cheek. He flashes a coy smile at Byungchan and laughs.

“You can,” he says. He holds Byungchan’s hand against his cheek and closes his eyes. “Come here.”

Byungchan’s throat feels dry. The permission to kiss Sejun feels like a breath of relief, but the way that his heart starts hammering in his chest when Sejun closes his eyes has Byungchan’s head spinning. He feels so nervous. His hand is on Sejun’s cheek, holding him delicately. He didn’t think they would get to this point.

He spent days stuck on the idea of kissing Sejun. And now, he’s being given the opportunity.

Byungchan’s heart races.

Nervously, he licks his lips.

He leans down and gently places his other hand on Sejun’s cheek, carefully cupping his face in his eyes.

Sejun is prettier from this distance, he thinks. Sejun is so pretty.

Byungchan knocks their foreheads together and closes his eyes. His hands are trembling with the surge of nerves that he feels. He can hear the way his heart pounds, loud in his ears.

“I’m going to kiss you, now,” he murmurs.

Sejun’s lips curve up into a smile and Byungchan can feel the movement; their lips just barely brushing when he moves. He can feel Sejun’s breath on his cheek again and their noses are brushing, but this time, he has the permission to lean closer. He’s allowed to kiss him.

Byungchan closes the distance between them. He presses his lips against Sejun’s, softly.

It’s shy and delicate as if he’s too afraid to _really_ kiss him.

Sejun cracks open an eye and chuckles.

“Is that it?” he whispers against Byungchan’s lips.

“No,” he breathes, “I’d like to do that again.”

Sejun laughs softly. He moves his hands, gently running his fingers through Byungchan’s hair.

“Do it,” he says. “Kiss me like you mean it.”

* * *

(“Sejun?” Byungchan looks over at Sejun nervously when they have dropped Subin off at his dorm.

“Hmm?” Sejun leans against the steering wheel and looks at him. There’s a fondness in his eyes that makes Byungchan’s heart flutter in his chest. “What is it?”

“I think this is a little late to ask,” he says. Byungchan shifts his eyes nervously.

Sejun laughs, “Go ahead.”

“So,” he starts. He clears his throat. And then, he clasps his hands together awkwardly in his lap, “I was wondering if you wanted to continue doing this whole fake boyfriend thing for a few more days or something. I’ll take you out for dinner as compensation and all that, too.”

Sejun raises an eyebrow. His lips curve into a smirk and his eyes positively twinkle.

“Hm,” he says. He feigns thought, “I don’t think I’ll need very much compensation. Think of it as a courtesy for a former client, Byungchan. Are you sure you want to do this for only a few more days?”)


End file.
